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Noosed Nude NYC
- Thread starter windar
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Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Looks like Barb decided to keep the, ah, spit-roast side of Dolcett to herself for the time being.
But, for sure, Reggie will spit-roast detective Moore personally, as soon as he learns what she is up to!That is a completely different fantasy
She does get tetchy when people don't show proper appreciation for her storytelling, doesn't she?
Excellent play on the notion that someone might take fantasy a step too far - the question is, were Amanda's "friends" real psychopaths who killed her on purpose, did it happen by accident, or did Amanda stage the whole thing without their "help" and get herself into something she couldn't get out of?
She does get tetchy when people don't show proper appreciation for her storytelling, doesn't she?
Excellent play on the notion that someone might take fantasy a step too far - the question is, were Amanda's "friends" real psychopaths who killed her on purpose, did it happen by accident, or did Amanda stage the whole thing without their "help" and get herself into something she couldn't get out of?
All good questions ... stay tuned!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Anyway, I still wonder too whether Moore and Goldman are not taking career risks, for what seems merely a case of manslaughter (in contrast to the Bronx crux murders)? Detective Moore seems to be carried away more and more by the excitement of the circumstances Amanda has died.
Anyway, I still wonder too whether Moore and Goldman are not taking career risks, for what seems merely a case of manslaughter (in contrast to the Bronx crux murders)? Detective Moore seems to be carried away more and more by the excitement of the circumstances Amanda has died.
Nonsense! I never get carried away!
cruxlover
Tribune
You did fall asleep in the sun and get spanked by beavers, sounds like you got carried away then. Lucky your friends were looking out for you or you might not have survived.
windar
Teller of Tales
19.
There weren’t very many aphorisms that Stan Goldman put much store in. One of the few exceptions was: “Never eat at a place called Mom’s, never play poker with a man named Doc and never sleep with anyone crazier than you are.” So far, Stan had managed to avoid the first two. Until recently, he had avoided the third as well, but he was pretty sure that Moore had a side of her that wasn’t quite down the straight and narrow.
She had gotten herself nailed to a cross and now she tells him that there were parts of the experience that were “interesting”, or some such foolishness. Then, she talks him into carrying on with this Berger case, which Reggie directly ordered them to drop, and which they still have zero evidence involved any actual crime, only a bunch of speculation that amounted to a big fat nothing.
Then, she joins this site-OK, she’s trying to lure the supposed suspects into a trap-but she’s enjoying it a little too much for Stan’s comfort. Now, she writes this ridiculous story with a bunch of nut jobs playing hanging games in some former church out on Long Island, only it isn’t exactly a game because one of them ends up just as dead as Amanda Berger. Is that the kind of thing that went on in her attic-some kind of game that she lost and felt obligated to go through with even to death? ‘What a fucking world we live in,’ Stan thought.
And then the kicker-writing this story has gotten Moore hot to trot. The detective in Stan needed to investigate this. Moore was lying on her back under the covers. Her eyes were closed, but she’d only been lying there for maybe five minutes, so Stan doubted she was asleep. He noticed her right hand was under the covers, its outline visible between her legs.
“Barb,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.
She opened her eyes. “What, Stan?”
“So that story really excited you?” he asked.
“My panties were soaked. Did you see me spill water on my lap?” Stan shook his head. “So whadaya think, Einstein?”
“Different Jewish guy, Moore,” he replied. She smiled at him. “What exactly excites you about hanging yourself until you die? You’d actually do that?”
Barb sat up, pulling the covers around her naked body. “I wouldn’t actually want to die for real, Stan, but the idea of hanging there naked with everyone watching you struggling to breathe is very sexy in an elemental sort of way. It’s hard to explain, but just thinking about it makes me hot. Stan felt a stirring in his groin as she spoke.
“You think that’s what Amanda Berger felt?”
“I’m almost positive she did. That’s why she was willing to risk death. Whether they promised to save her at the last minute and didn’t, I don’t know. But I want to play whatever game they played with her and see what it feels like in real life. Of course, you’ll be there hidden, watching and listening on video and you’ll save me at the last moment, right?”
Stan looked like he was thinking for a minute. “Yeah, sure, Moore. Of course I’ll save you.”
Barb stuck her tongue out at him. “You know, maybe we should try it, just so I’ll have some idea if I’ll be able to go through with it if and when the time comes.”
“You want me to hang you here?” Stan asked, looking around the room. “From where?”
“No, there’s no way to do a hanging here, and we don’t have any rope that would hold me. But you could tie me up and choke me.”
Stan looked doubtful. “Not until I pass out or anything,” Barb said. “Just until I say stop.”
“You’re serious?” Stan asked.
“Yes. Come on, Goldman. You can fuck me. I really would like that. Please.”
Stan shook his head. He liked playing with Barb, but this was farther than they’d gone before and maybe farther than he was willing to go. Still, he didn’t want to disappoint her and he was hard as a rock just thinking about fucking her as she struggled to breathe. He got their handcuffs and cuffed each of her ankles to a bed post and used the sashes of their bathrobes to tie her hands to the headboard, as they had done before.
“What should I use to choke you?” he asked.
Barb looked exasperated. “Use one of those ratty old ties of yours Goldman. It won’t be any loss if it gets ripped, trust me.” Stan went to the closet and chose one of his oldest ties, stained with the remains of countless burgers and fries eaten on stakeouts.
He stripped off his clothes and stood over Barb, gazing down at her lovely form, the tie held loosely in his hands. “You sure this is what you want?” he asked.
“Don’t be daft, Goldman!” she yelled.
He shrugged and sat astride her, wrapping the tie loosely around her neck. “Well?” she asked. “Are you going to tighten it?” He grasped both ends and pulled, tightening it a bit, enough to make breathing a bit difficult, but not impossible. “Now, fuck me, Stan,” she ordered.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. Keeping his grip on the tie, he slid inside her. She was wetter than she had ever been for him. “Keep pulling the tie as you fuck me,” she instructed.
Stan did his best to keep the pressure on her neck as he moved slowly back and forth inside her. Her face was red and her arms were pulling hard on the bonds holding them to the headboard as her body wanted desperately to free her neck, no matter how much her mind said otherwise. After perhaps five strokes she gasped for as much air as she could get through the constricted airway and screamed, “Oh, God!” as her whole body shook. She had never come that quickly.
Stan stopped for a minute loosening the tie enough for her to take several deep breaths, then tightened it again and began thrusting, harder this time. He was extremely excited, watching Barb’s struggles, and it wasn’t long before he groaned and shot inside her as she came again for the second time, collapsing onto her sweat-soaked body. Exhausted, he let the tie fall onto the bed.
Barb was panting, her face beet red. He bent over and kissed her deeply. He didn’t have to ask her how it was. Finally, he released her ankles and wrists and they both fell asleep almost instantly.
There weren’t very many aphorisms that Stan Goldman put much store in. One of the few exceptions was: “Never eat at a place called Mom’s, never play poker with a man named Doc and never sleep with anyone crazier than you are.” So far, Stan had managed to avoid the first two. Until recently, he had avoided the third as well, but he was pretty sure that Moore had a side of her that wasn’t quite down the straight and narrow.
She had gotten herself nailed to a cross and now she tells him that there were parts of the experience that were “interesting”, or some such foolishness. Then, she talks him into carrying on with this Berger case, which Reggie directly ordered them to drop, and which they still have zero evidence involved any actual crime, only a bunch of speculation that amounted to a big fat nothing.
Then, she joins this site-OK, she’s trying to lure the supposed suspects into a trap-but she’s enjoying it a little too much for Stan’s comfort. Now, she writes this ridiculous story with a bunch of nut jobs playing hanging games in some former church out on Long Island, only it isn’t exactly a game because one of them ends up just as dead as Amanda Berger. Is that the kind of thing that went on in her attic-some kind of game that she lost and felt obligated to go through with even to death? ‘What a fucking world we live in,’ Stan thought.
And then the kicker-writing this story has gotten Moore hot to trot. The detective in Stan needed to investigate this. Moore was lying on her back under the covers. Her eyes were closed, but she’d only been lying there for maybe five minutes, so Stan doubted she was asleep. He noticed her right hand was under the covers, its outline visible between her legs.
“Barb,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.
She opened her eyes. “What, Stan?”
“So that story really excited you?” he asked.
“My panties were soaked. Did you see me spill water on my lap?” Stan shook his head. “So whadaya think, Einstein?”
“Different Jewish guy, Moore,” he replied. She smiled at him. “What exactly excites you about hanging yourself until you die? You’d actually do that?”
Barb sat up, pulling the covers around her naked body. “I wouldn’t actually want to die for real, Stan, but the idea of hanging there naked with everyone watching you struggling to breathe is very sexy in an elemental sort of way. It’s hard to explain, but just thinking about it makes me hot. Stan felt a stirring in his groin as she spoke.
“You think that’s what Amanda Berger felt?”
“I’m almost positive she did. That’s why she was willing to risk death. Whether they promised to save her at the last minute and didn’t, I don’t know. But I want to play whatever game they played with her and see what it feels like in real life. Of course, you’ll be there hidden, watching and listening on video and you’ll save me at the last moment, right?”
Stan looked like he was thinking for a minute. “Yeah, sure, Moore. Of course I’ll save you.”
Barb stuck her tongue out at him. “You know, maybe we should try it, just so I’ll have some idea if I’ll be able to go through with it if and when the time comes.”
“You want me to hang you here?” Stan asked, looking around the room. “From where?”
“No, there’s no way to do a hanging here, and we don’t have any rope that would hold me. But you could tie me up and choke me.”
Stan looked doubtful. “Not until I pass out or anything,” Barb said. “Just until I say stop.”
“You’re serious?” Stan asked.
“Yes. Come on, Goldman. You can fuck me. I really would like that. Please.”
Stan shook his head. He liked playing with Barb, but this was farther than they’d gone before and maybe farther than he was willing to go. Still, he didn’t want to disappoint her and he was hard as a rock just thinking about fucking her as she struggled to breathe. He got their handcuffs and cuffed each of her ankles to a bed post and used the sashes of their bathrobes to tie her hands to the headboard, as they had done before.
“What should I use to choke you?” he asked.
Barb looked exasperated. “Use one of those ratty old ties of yours Goldman. It won’t be any loss if it gets ripped, trust me.” Stan went to the closet and chose one of his oldest ties, stained with the remains of countless burgers and fries eaten on stakeouts.
He stripped off his clothes and stood over Barb, gazing down at her lovely form, the tie held loosely in his hands. “You sure this is what you want?” he asked.
“Don’t be daft, Goldman!” she yelled.
He shrugged and sat astride her, wrapping the tie loosely around her neck. “Well?” she asked. “Are you going to tighten it?” He grasped both ends and pulled, tightening it a bit, enough to make breathing a bit difficult, but not impossible. “Now, fuck me, Stan,” she ordered.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. Keeping his grip on the tie, he slid inside her. She was wetter than she had ever been for him. “Keep pulling the tie as you fuck me,” she instructed.
Stan did his best to keep the pressure on her neck as he moved slowly back and forth inside her. Her face was red and her arms were pulling hard on the bonds holding them to the headboard as her body wanted desperately to free her neck, no matter how much her mind said otherwise. After perhaps five strokes she gasped for as much air as she could get through the constricted airway and screamed, “Oh, God!” as her whole body shook. She had never come that quickly.
Stan stopped for a minute loosening the tie enough for her to take several deep breaths, then tightened it again and began thrusting, harder this time. He was extremely excited, watching Barb’s struggles, and it wasn’t long before he groaned and shot inside her as she came again for the second time, collapsing onto her sweat-soaked body. Exhausted, he let the tie fall onto the bed.
Barb was panting, her face beet red. He bent over and kissed her deeply. He didn’t have to ask her how it was. Finally, he released her ankles and wrists and they both fell asleep almost instantly.
Last edited by a moderator:
Hooray for science ... hypothesize, test, evaluate ...
The guy needs prodding ... especially after several episodes of that stupid Seinfeld show
I’ll have to cure him someday of that annoying habit
Ewwwwwwwwweww.
I have to tell him how to do everything
See what I mean?
Ahhh, yeah!!!!!!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
This thread needs close watching...
Barb really might do something really dangerous...
Barb really might do something really dangerous...
Barb! All you allright? Say something!
I think I need a drink!
No, make it two!
Like I said .... “Oh God!”
windar
Teller of Tales
I'll join you!Barb! All you allright? Say something!
I think I need a drink!
No, make it two!
Might?
Don't try this at home....
(Unless 'home' is Cruxton Abbey!
...then you do what honor demands!!!
malins
Stumbling Seeker
'Choke me until I say stop' ... a beginner's mistake that could be final ... what if he's being a bit enthusiastic with the choking and she can't say stop ... oops... but then of course Goldman is very reliable and never gets carried away
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Don't try this at home....
And if you do....
... use a clean tie!
Shut up, Goldman
Don't try this at home....
(Unless 'home' is Cruxton Abbey!
A voice of experience, I presume ....
...then you do what honor demands!!!
Advice from a man who doesn't know what the word "honor" means ...
but then of course Goldman is very reliable and never gets carried away
The only thing that Goldman gets carried away with is watching stupid old episodes of Seinfeld ... oh, and snoring in bed too.
... use a clean tie!
He doesn't own one
windar
Teller of Tales
I would say something about you Moore, but I'm too much of a gentleman
They all started out clean. Except the ones I bought at Goodwill